


Sunshine

by leeknowcity



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: And they were soulmates, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Jisung tries his best, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Minho had the best kind, Romantic Fluff, and Minho never stops caring, if the Rain held some comfort, oh my god they were soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeknowcity/pseuds/leeknowcity
Summary: His notebook is dead blank, the hours are painful, the night only gets lonelier, and the rain does not stop coming. Yeah, Han Jisung is one too many forms of exhausted.So, when he walks up to the rooftop in search of some sort of inspiration, or comfort, or just some godforsaken peace around here he certainly doesn’t expect he’ll find exactly what he needs, and maybe even more.It was a dark, cold night in a city that never slept when Han Jisung discovered that the brightest kinds of sunshine, came from the quietest places of the world.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Sunshine

The only illumination was a warm, piercing orange that came from a dying battery-operated desk lamp.

Every five minutes or so the screen of his laptop would glow with a reminder to take a break or a text message from Chan — also telling him to take a break — but other than that the room was only dark, and the night was lonely.

Jisung sits with his eyebrows furrowed, back sore in horrible posture, hunched over a worn-out notebook and several other crumpled pieces of paper. He chews on his bottom lip a little too eagerly, cringing when the faint taste of blood spills out as a result, but still, only paying it enough attention to run a finger across and wipe it on his sleeve like it happened all the time.

It’s nothing too bad, just that his lip bursting into yet another visible form of his exhaustion while his head was on Flames and his body in a cold sweat wasn’t so much pain, and a _crystal clear_ call from the universe to take a godforsaken break from almost nine hours straight of work as it was — to Han Jisung — a disturbance, a distraction, an excuse? to get out of progress he was just not making.

A thirtieth crumpled — mainly blank, except for the occasional doodles — torn apart piece of notebook is catapulted at the table by the door, toppling over the (fortunately) empty glass Seungmin had dropped off a few hours ago with a _thud_. Jisung leans back into his seat, gripping a fistful of his dry, bleached hair in frustration.

The door to their shared room swings open with a creak, revealing a rather displeased Seungmin, carrying a second batch of his favorite chocolate chip cookie mix and a new glass of milk on a tray. He sets these down on the same table before cleaning the older glass up with one eyebrow raised, and a glare, even more piercing than the lamp light, that instantly gets Jisung to sit straight up, shoulders and face all tense like he’d shatter with one word from Seungmin’s mouth.

Seungmin, however, does not give him The Talk, about cleaning up after himself, or some good old-fashioned time management, or yeah, learning to take a goddamn intermission when he can.

Instead, he exhales heavily, the corners of his lips dipping into a frown and his eyes painted with concern, and wraps his arms around his tired friend.

Jisung snuggles into the soft and warm part of his hoodie in the crook of his neck, squeezing him back in appreciation.

“How do I know you didn’t just throw your ‘dinner’ out the window?”

He giggles. “It’s my favorite mix, Seungmin.”

“You know, I can make you hot soup or something. I’ll be so much quicker than you think.”

“I swear I’ll be fine. Maybe you should go get some rest.”

Seungmin almost picks up his slipper and whacks him in the head with it, but he resorts to an eye roll, saving his own energy for when Jisung had an equal — if not bucketfuls more— amount in him to run away.

He makes his exit with a troubled, and unconvinced sigh to which Jisung, with all the strength left he could muster, throws a hand heart back. And in a matter of seconds it just felt so much quieter, and so much lonelier than it ever was today.

“Oh yeah, we will be fine. We’ve gone longer hours pre-debut. Right, Jisung? Of course. Because sleep is for the weak.”

What started out as the tiny heat in the pit of his stomach grew stronger and bigger by the minute, and it was _not_ fluttering butterflies or some _passionate_ bonfire-turned-explosion thing— like when he was ecstatic about something or extremely shy. His insides burned with the ever so omnipotent mix of actual hunger, and fatigue, and he was beginning to think the headache and the? _visions?_ he’d been ignoring from about two hours in had some things to do with it.

The rain dropping on the roof like there was a freaking hailstorm, and the sound of traffic, and the _God forbid it end_ city chatter that, at this point, just rang through the walls were really only some of the things that didn’t help tonight.

“We’re back!”

Who is?

“And _beat_. Fucking exhausted honestly, that routine was something else.”

Jisung takes a step out of the room, for the first time after he started working this morning, to see Felix jump and dead drop onto the couch and Hyunjin, in all his sweaty glory, try to trap a very irritated, fidgety Seungmin in his arms while he wiped down the table.

“Ow! Why won’t you let me love you!”

“I will count to three, and if you’re not off of me, I will use _you_ to clean this table.”

“Hot, Kim Seungmin. Very hot. Can you say that again?”

“One.”  
  
“And I am off! Hello Han Jisung!” Hyunjin internally praises himself for successfully dodging the wet rag that almost came flying at his face.

The dancer practically overflowed with unusual amounts of energy for someone who just got out of practice. Then again, Hwang Hyunjin rarely ever ran out.

He sprints from the kitchen to Jisung’s terribly depressing room and plops right down onto Jeongin’s bed, propped up on his elbow, one leg folded up on the other. He winks. But then he frowns. His very, visibly drained friend almost fails to even force a smile, leaning against the doorframe, with his hands crossed over his chest.

“You know what you look like?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Stop that, I like when you _don’t_ look like shit. Looking at you is less painful.”

Jisung stiffly chuckles, shooting a slipper in his direction to which, Hyunjin dodges perfectly like he’s done it a hundred times. And he has.

“I am dead serious about choosing you in that, horrible green jacket? thing? with the ruffles— hello, why do you wear RUFFLES??— Instead of… like, this.”

“Hang on, I like that coat. They said I looked great in it.”

“They lied, Han Jisung! Lied! Please set it on fire.”

He dodges the other slipper, of course, throwing his head back in laughter. Hyunjin lays flat on his back, first sighing up at the ceiling, then cocking his head to the side to sigh at Jisung.

“Come back, Jisung. Come home. Let’s go to sleep.”

Only a pained, bitter laugh escapes. Like he’s heard the most ridiculous thing he possibly could have. He really just might have. Sleep? _Sleep?_ Jesus Christ, if he could sleep he would have hours ago.

“Yeah, about that. I am so behind on— I don’t know, everything? I’ve been staring at a blank, _freaking_ page for almost nine hours straight! Why? I think I’ve been asking the same thing! I can’t work without any inspiration, so I stress out about it, and I can’t get any inspiration if I don’t work, so I stress out even more! Hyunjin! I want to disappear!”

He notes the bags under Jisung’s eyes, visible even in the dark. “Is it the deadline again? It’s eating you up?”

“Correction, the _deadlines_ are eating me up.” He slides down the wall in defeat and buries his head in his hands. “I know I signed up, but this is deadly. This is really freaking deadly.”

Hyunjin first watches him sulk by the doorframe, feeling his own heart crack at the sight.

“Rooftop.” He says after a moment, while fiddling with the loose thread on Jeongin’s blanket, and without looking up.

Jisung slowly lifts his head. It takes a significant second for him to get the message, but he does, and his eyes dart immediately to the window.

“What, out in the rain?”

“Come on, you know he has his ways. And even the rooftop has a bit of roof.” Hyunjin curls up under the duvet, not bothering to change out of his practice clothes, or even _shower_. “Might be a lot more peaceful than you think.”

Jisung follows the raindrops on the window with only his eyes, still in the same, tired, defeated position on the floor, and wonders if Hyunjin could be right.

The gush of wind that hits his face like a monster truck is enough to wake him up a little, sending shocks of pure ice through his veins.

“Oh wow.”

Han Jisung was not too fond of the busy city when it was raining and cold, late at night. Or— at all, really. One day he’d decided that maybe this, terribly disorganized collection of beeps, and car skids, and noise, all under the sky of freezing waterfalls, and flaming streaks of light, and the occasional booms that followed wasn’t so much an excellent choice of aesthetic for a sad love song as it was, just what it really was— annoying. The words posed overwhelming levels of anxiety, and stress, even a little bit of hurt sometimes. Busy was overwhelming.

It did not give him focus, or relief, or inspiration before and he’d be dreaming if it did now.

He went up to the roof in search of some kind of solace because what? There just wasn’t enough in the room? Well there was even less out here.At least that’s what it felt like.

“Jisung?”

“It’s— it was dark in the room.” He replies, unable to move from where he stood by the rooftop entrance.

A beat. Jisung bites down on his lower lip. 

“Did you… try turning on the light?”

“I— well, Hyunjin’s decided Jeongin’s bed was the place to pass out tonight. I only had the desk lamp.”

He only stares back without a word, for just the right amount of silence before scooting over to the right in his seat, motioning for Jisung to take the one beside him.

“Okay. Yeah, come here.”

Jisung obliges, waddling over to the spot with his hands in his pockets like a toddler, exhaling into the cold, rainy night with a burst of fog. Minho reaches down into a plastic bag and takes out this _We Bare Bears_ themed hot pack, a can of hot chocolate, and a plastic box,

with a cheesecake inside. Jisung feels the need to melt.

In a split second, with no words needed, Minho’s scarf is wrapped snugly around his own neck, and a _We Bare Bears_ hot pack warms up the space in his left pocket like it was a usual thing. And you know, it kind of was.

“What about my other hand?”

Minho fumbles through his same, plastic bag of wonders, before swiftly taking Jisung’s hand in his, interlocking their fingers and stuffing their hands into his coat pocket.

“I'm sorry, I only had one hot pack.” He says, a hint of shy in the smile on his face.

Right. Jisung’s pretty sure he’s melted now. And a great idea takes a spark in his head.

“Hyung, I think my lips are kind of cold… too.”

Minho turns to face him, one eyebrow raised quizzically. The younger boy watches carefully, trying to read his expression, and failing. Slowly, carefully, he inches closer to his face until there was only a _dangerous_ 2 centimeters between the tips of both their noses. Jisung holds his breath and shuts his eyes tight. Minho has to suppress a laugh.

“Oh. They are?” He teases, the hot breath from his whisper landing on Jisung’s mouth.

Jisung, on the other hand, whisper-yelps, leaning as far back as he can with his eyes shut tight. “Actually, they’re suddenly feeling very warm! Thanks!”

Minho smacks him in the arm before retreating into his seat, and Jisung makes a mental note to never pull a stunt like that again.

“How was your day, Sungie?” He takes a sip out of a second can of hot chocolate.

His voice is sweet, and Jisung’s most favorite in the world. The way his insides turn to fuzz all around when he asks, is something he’ll think about all the time. _Sungie._

“I don’t know… I just tried to work, I guess”

“Yeah? What are you working on now?”

“Song.”

“Another one?

“Kind of feels like I haven’t contributed enough.” Jisung sucks his teeth bitterly, drooping his head in an attempt to hide the disappointment he had in himself. The feeling _stung._

Minho gently raises his hand up to cup the right side of the boy’s face, running his thumb over his cheekbones. Jisung feels his eyelids slowly dropping. He falls into his touch, and into him just a bit more.

“You’re tired, Jisung.”

“I wanted to rest..”

“And you can, you know?”

“If I wasn’t so behind, maybe. It’s just— when I need to stop and take a break it’s not like the world does, too. I fall behind, and it’s not so easy to catch up. Hyung, it’s so unfair…”

“I know, I know it is.”

Minho tells him to come closer, and Jisung does, a tad bit unfamiliar with the new kind of warmth that surges through his body. The sensation sends goosebumps, all across his skin, and the red in his system all the way up to his cheeks. It was so, perfectly calming. And for a moment it was perfectly quiet, like the rain and the city noise he wished would disappear all day weren’t there anymore.

He feels a small squeeze to his hand in Minho’s pocket.

“Hmm, can we try something?” Minho prompts.

“What?”

“Close your eyes.”

A bright red color climbs up Jisung’s face. “You want me to… close my eyes?”

“Han Jisung!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Minho threatens to drop kick him right then and there, and dear Lord, he really would have if the younger boy wasn’t so tired.

“Okay just— close your eyes. I’ll hold onto your hand the whole time.”

So Jisung closes his eyes.

“Picture this. It’s… uhh, sunny out. Yeah okay, sunny out. It’s real sunny out, and you— Jisung don’t laugh!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll try again.”

Minho runs a hand down his face and sighs heavily. “Alright, Jisung.

It’s sunny out, and you are.… in an open field, sitting in the grass. The sun is just right, maybe, not too hot. It’s the perfect weather. Yes, you see it?”

He nods his head, and Minho continues.

“You hear the rain? And the traffic? Instead of those you hear the wind, it blows at your forehead, your hair goes flying up. It’s refreshing, and the only sound you hear for miles. When you look around, you spot… your notebook! And suddenly your head is overflowing with ideas.”

Jisung chuckles softly, his eyes still shut. Minho cracks a warm smile.

“You also have hundred, no a thousand— boxes of cheesecake, and that chocolate chip cookie mix Seungmin bakes for you. They’re all yours, you can eat while you write lyrics.”

Jisung’s face seemed to glow. He practically beamed with light as his grin grew wider and his laughter much, much louder. Minho doesn’t say anything for a bit, letting the boy dance by himself in the little world they were creating, and letting himself watch.

For a moment, his smile fades. A pause.

“But Minho-hyung, where are you?”

“Right there— right here, with you. Open your eyes for me?”

He slowly opens one eye, and then the other. They’re still on the rooftop, with the rain, and he’s not too sure what he’s supposed to see.

“Look at me, Jisung. Sit in the sun and look at me. In this moment, the world is moving in slow motion, and you can take a break. You can do whatever you want to do. Leave all your worries to the wind.

Leave them to me.”

Jisung almost gets lost in the way Minho stared at him. His eyes, and the infinite astronomical beauty he held in them, and his smile— god, his smile— the warmth of the sun. It was like looking at sunshine. _Sunshine._

“Yeah? Sungie?”

“Yeah. Alright. You and me.” He smiles.

“Just you and me.”

“No but really, being swallowed whole by the earth sounds really good right about now.”

“Sounds very sexy.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Minho offers a shy giggle, his eyes folding into upside-down crescent moons when he does. And although it was faint, in the dark of the 11 pm, a warm pink hue painted itself across Jisung’s cheekbones.

“So, is there any other way I can help you? Sungie?”

Jisung looks straight into his eyes, and his stare, although filled with exhaustion and pain beneath, pierces right through whatever little space there was between them. Minho’s own eyes widen in surprise when he slowly brings his face closer, and closer to his just like he did earlier. He swears he almost laughs, but he holds it in, and closes his eyes instead. It takes Jisung no hesitation at all to finally throw himself forward,

and land fully passed out, on Minho’s shoulder.

Minho cracks one eye open when the weight hits his body to check, and sure enough, there he was. Han Jisung fast asleep, his adorable soft snores blowing against his jacket.

“Alright. Well, finally.” He giggles to himself.

He slings his arm around Jisung’s shoulder and carefully adjusts his head on him so one, the exhausted boy is a lot more comfortable, and yeah two, so he can go and place the good warm, maybe ten-second kiss he’s been holding back on his little mouth. His cheeks are so fluffy when he holds them, Minho almost melts himself.

Jisung’s lips were dry, chapped and tired, but Minho’s were soft, and warm enough to hold them together, safely into his touch. They fit perfectly into place.

Everything kind of fit perfectly into place when they were together. 

“Goodnight, Jisung. You outstanding bundle of sunshine. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow.”

That’s the last of what he says before he finally drops himself, head gently against Jisung’s, as he wanders off into their own little picnic dream. There they sat in the sunshine, basking in each other’s warmth, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

From their small, but special spot on the rooftop they could see Seoul, in all its urban glory.

And maybe tonight, in the middle of this busy city, there was some quiet after all.

**Author's Note:**

> come bully me on twitter! @1025wrld i write socmed aus too <3


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